Page 22 of Imprisoned Obsession

I had to choose between him or the police, an authoritative entity looking for a scapegoat. I may not like Elio for his part in the fire, Janice’s demise, and my unwilling participation in his games. However, I will not go down for something I didn’t do.

I’m glad I didn’t leave when he offered.

I’m not made for prison. I didn’t survive that horror house to get cornered in a concrete cell.

When I was still a cowardly child, I vowed never to trust people who smile too much. It was a childish promise to myself, but I kept it. Now Elio has rammed through my fortified walls with his brute force and rippling muscles.

I pinch my arm again and shake off the depressing thoughts. Quickening my steps towards my first lecture, I start to pass the giggling girls and jeering boys.

It’s been a while since I have heard people in general. Elio has kept me in his massive home with the unspoken result of cutting social ties to the world.

Oh, my manager is going to grill me on company policies and then terminate me. I haven’t shown up at work for a week.

How many things could go wrong in my life in one week?

I groan abruptly and rush through the door. Many students are either sitting alone or with their friends, and the hall is filled with murmuring voices. I find an empty seat by the wall and drop my bag on the chair next to it.

The moment I press my hands to my eyes, the professor’s voice cheerfully greets everyone.

I can’t return the enthusiasm as he immediately begins the lesson. While he teaches, my mind slows down. Time goes by very slowly, but his material escapes me.

I swear I only blinked once, and fifty minutes had already passed. Students practically run out of the lecture hall, and I’m one of them.

Something about being in a familiar environment sets off a lot of nerves in my body. I feel sick, but I have no idea what caused it.

The rest of the classes help with the anxious sensation in my gut. The sense of routine slowly creeps back to me, and my body becomes my own again. I no longer feel out of control, nor is Elio pulling the puppet strings.

I’m Willa again. Not his little girl. Not Elio’s darling.

“Hey,” someone calls out quietly. “You’re laughing, and it’s fucking weird.”

I choke with a startled gasp and turn to the student sitting one empty chair away from me. She hooks her fingers into the corners of her mouth and stretches them in a scary smile.

She looks like a clown, which is probably what she saw in me when I was unintentionally laughing.

I hope it wasn’t loud. She’s the only one looking at me while everyone else is on their phones; I assume they didn’t hear me.

I turn back to the giant wall where the projector is aimed. The new professor punches in his credentials and pulls up today’s PowerPoint.

I use this class as a general elective. I can’t graduate without meeting the criteria.

The material takes my mind off Elio. I love the weight leaving my shoulders, and I can breathe properly. Immersing myself in the history of Greece, I gather the professor has a profound love for the elegantly gruesome chronicle.

Many classes on Greek history revolve around the most popular gods and entities with the flashiest impact on the culture. This lesson is different; he focuses the entire lecture on a god who is rarely spoken about.

The Sun God.

His presence is important in history. He provides warmth and light for living things to help them thrive. There wouldn’t be daybreak without him, and the world would essentially rot and decay.

Scholars sometimes call him a Titan.

I read him as Helios.

Saying it’s a coincidence is inadequate. Deliberate? Fate? Could it simply be a once-in-a-lifetime chance of inevitable synchrony?

Elio derives from “Helios,” a personification of the sun’s amber halo —the color of fire, and my biggest fear.

Was our meeting intentional or fate?

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